


A Question And The Answer

by harvroth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, First Kiss, Loner Draco, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:26:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harvroth/pseuds/harvroth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the manor? Did you know it was me?"<br/>Harry daren't look up, but when there was no reply for a good minute, he couldn't help but let his eyes flutter up.<br/>Harry's heart started to beat far too fast in his chest as he registered Malfoy's expression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Question And The Answer

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt number 2!  
> I actually wrote this quite a while, but it's probably one of my favourite scenarios, although loner Draco always makes me a little emotional.

Casually, Harry slipped a book off the shelf closest to him, not giving it a second glance as he dropped it to his left hip. 

Taking a deep breath, he took another few covert glances round the corner at the closest table where the unsuspecting Slytherin was sitting.

Harry inwardly weighed out the pros and cons of what he'd been planning to do for the past 6 weeks, only this was the first chance he'd managed to escape his lovey dovey gooey eyed friends - an incredible relief by the way - and this would probably be the last time in a while. 

It was now or never.

Now. He had to do it now, or he'd never get the courage.

Draco Malfoy was sat there on his own (as he had been permanently recently) his head stuck in a book. Though, his fingers were clenching in the hair that had grown a little over the past months, yet still looked so goddamn soft and silky, and he was gnawing at that plump pink lip, making it red and moist (and just far more distracting than Harry was willing to admit) and Harry was pretty sure Malfoy hadn't changed the page for about 10 minutes - not that he'd been watching the Slytherin for that long of course, honestly he hadn't been preparing himself for 20 minutes. 

It all seemed ridiculous, they'd known each other 7 years and Harry didn't think twice before spitting an insult at him, yet here he was having a mental breakdown over whether he should go and ask the question that had been swimming in his head for months.

You're a Gryffindor Harry, a bloody Gryffindor, if you can face and defeat the darkest wizard of possibly the whole history of wizards you can approach a rival who wasn't even a rival anymore - he was an isolated loner, his friends hadn't come back to Hogwarts, and he'd made no effort to talk to anyone else.

Harry found himself feeling sorry for him, felt the hate and anger drift away along with Malfoy's bad boy reputation - which was dropping rapidly, if it wasn't already a long ago memory.

Fuck it. Some voice in his head dropped and it was obviously the part of his brain that controlled his legs because he found himself stepping away from the shelf and into Malfoy's line of view.

Harry watched as Malfoy startled a little at the sound, clearly not aware that he hadn't been alone. 

Embarrassed and reluctant, Harry felt blood rush to his cheeks as wide grey eyes met green, and his heart began to beat erratically.

Harry suddenly forgot what he wanted to say. 

He watched a million and one emotions pass through Malfoy's eyes, hating every one of them: shock, hate, anger, misery and then they were guarded, his back straightening and his hands dropping to the table.

"Potter." He sniped but there wasn't half as much venom as there could have been, just exhaustion, boredom.

God why does it hurt his heart so much, hearing Malfoy so broken? After everything Malfoy had done, Harry should be relishing in his rival's misery - he wasn't though, not in the slightest, he wanted to forgive him for every single sin he'd committed, from insulting his hair to attempting to kill Dumbledore. And Christ, wasn't that an unsettling thought. 

"Um," Harry cleared his throat, only just noticing how dry it had gone and then looked down.

"Please, Potter, I've much better things to do than-"

Harry couldn't be bothered to listen to his half hearted meaningless bites, "Did you know?"

Malfoy's face dropped, "what?"

Harry cleared his throat, taking a step closer, his blush getting deeper and hotter. He unconscionably tapped the unknown book against his thigh, and scuffed his already scuffed shoe on the floor.

"In the manor? Did you know it was me?"  
Harry daren't look up, but when there was no reply for a good minute, he couldn't help but let his eyes flutter up.

Harry's heart started to beat far too fast in his chest as he registered Malfoy's expression.

The guard had dropped and he looked upset, he looked broken and Harry had no idea why and he hated it. He hated that look on his face, he hated the feeling that he'd caused it.

"Harry," he breathed, so quietly and softly it was nearly inaudible.

Harry's breath caught at the use of his first name, at how right it sounded coming from that voice, at how tender a caress it was. 

"Yeah?" He inhaled, watching as Malfoy rose from his seat, not breaking eye contact. 

Harry lost more oxygen with every step Malfoy - Draco - took. 

Then suddenly Draco was inches away from Harry, peering down slightly.

There was no arrogance or maliciousness Harry didn't even feel threatened by how close his rival was - so close Harry felt the puffs of breath and smelt the spicy cologne. 

Draco's lips curved up slightly, but not in a smirk, it was a smile, a sad smile and it made Harry want to wrap his arms around him and never let go and that was an incredibly disturbing thought.

Though he didn't step back.

"W-What are you doing?" Harry's gaze couldn't stop flickering between Draco's intense (and my god, Harry thought, his eyes weren't even grey they were silver and so so beautiful - only the tiniest bit spoilt by the grey marks of exhaustion smudged under them) eyes, and his pink, shining lips.

"My, Potter, I know you don't have many brain cells but do catch up." The soft breath passed over Harry's skin and he shuddered, gulping. 

Harry couldn't catch up, he had no fucking idea what Draco was on about, he couldn't focus on anything but the body heat between them and how his breaths must have been coming out as rattles, he felt winded.

"Huh?" Harry replied, gulping.

"Harry James Potter," his voice was getting more and more inaudible but it didn't matter because they were standing so close (who had stepped closer and when? Another step and their bodies would be flush together) that Harry could just swallow the words instead. 

Then Draco did something Harry was not expecting, one hand wound around Harry's neck, twining into and tugging his hair, and the other grabbed his hip and pulled him forward even closer - chest to chest.

Harry lost all breath completely.

"You're clueless aren't you? Anything that's not to do with little golden lions, or nasty wizards trying to kill you, you don't give a second thought to it. Seven years, Harry, seven goddamn years-" He sounded like he wanted to say something else but instead he dropped his head, dropping his lips right on to Harry's.  


Harry half moaned at the contact and half gasped in shock, but he found himself winding his arms around Draco's waist and pulling him even more tight against him.

The whole world seemed to narrow completely leaving nothing and no one else but Harry and Draco. 

Harry clenched his fingers so tight in Draco's shirt he was sure he'd had have nail marks in his palms, despite the fabric he was gripping. 

The blood shot to his groin so fast he was sure he'd have collapsed had Draco not been holding him up.

Draco then pulled away, luckily only by an inch, their foreheads rested against each other, their lips a hair breadth a way. 

"Figured it out yet?"

Figured what out? He asked himself but there was a niggling thought in the back of his head that picked up on the expression on Draco's face: the defeat, the admiration ... The love?

Oh god.

Draco Malfoy loved him. Draco Malfoy! 

Harry gasped and stiffened a little - none of it made sense really, how and why and when his childhood rivalry had fallen for him, but then again, it did make sense. There was a very thin line between love and hate, and they'd crossed it. 

Draco let out a little snort.

"Finally." He said, and began to move away, dropping his head but Harry stopped him, pulling him back to his chest.

It was Draco's turn to gasp but he didn't get very far before Harry's lips were back on his. 

Harry didn't have a clue how any of this had happened, all he came for was one question and he'd got the answer he wanted, but as Draco pressed closer, Harry gave up trying to work it out.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise if it's badly written, but thank you for reading nonetheless x  
> My tumblr is claycro come talk to me xxx


End file.
